Bleached and Blinded
by God and the Fox
Summary: Chapter 9 - Secrets. Short one-shots based on a prompts list. Ratings and warnings vary, but are announced at the beginning of each chapter.
1. Evidence

**Prompt: "Evidence"**

**Rating: K**

**Character(s): Aizen**

**Warnings: None**

If they had known what to look for, they could have easily noticed things amiss in the fifth division and known about the betrayal before it ever happened. They couldn't have stopped it, but they could have tried. Aizen intentionally left paper trails – a map of Hueco Mundo tucked deep within the division files, a book on the types of Hollows conspicuously left on a table in the library. He kept up the ruse of the kind captain almost perfectly, but at times he would let his darker nature shine through just slightly – a too tight smile toward someone who opposed a proposition, a dark flash of his eyes, a bow that seemed slightly too mocking.

He liked the idea that if anyone had really looked, had bothered to take the time to investigate him, they would have figured out that something was going on. It amused him to play these little games. He left small clues all the time, more and more noticeably as it got closer to time for his defection. He almost hoped someone would notice, just for the fun of it, but he knew that they wouldn't. They were all just too trusting, the fools.

The game came to a head with the 'missing shinigami' case as the sou-taicho dubbed it. He really did need high reiatsu research subjects for his early experiments with hollowification, but making their disappearances obvious was all a part of his fun. He truly could have gotten caught in that one, and he almost did. He had planned too well, though, and Kisuke Urahara had taken the fall for him, just like he had always planned. The man even gave Aizen's name in front of the Central 46, but they hadn't listened in the slightest, and he was yet again unnoticed.

He had lain out all the evidence for them, but none of them ever took notice. Well, that was their own fault. This was how the game was played, and they had all lost beautifully.


	2. I'm Here

**Prompt: "I'm Here"**

**Rating: K**

**Characters: Ichigo/Masaki**

**Warnings: None**

Ichigo woke with a start, tears streaming down his face. He was supposed to start kindergarten on Monday, and he had been having nightmares about it all week. He was scared. He didn't want to go to this new place, with all these new people. He didn't know what it was going to be like, and he would rather stay at home. He had asked his mother to homeschool him instead, but she had only smiled gently and told him that he had to go to school. He didn't like it, but if she said that it had to be done, then he believed her.

This last nightmare had been the worst out of all of them. The school had been so big, and he had been lost. There was no one else around, and he had been calling for his mother, but he couldn't find her anywhere. He had been crying, and he woke up with the sobs still coming from inside his throat. His door creaked open and his mother walked into his room silently. She had heard his tears from her room across the hall and came in to comfort him. She sat down on the bed beside him and pulled him to her gently, running her fingers through his short hair.

"Shh, Ichigo, it's alright."

He sniffled and buried his face into her shoulder. "Mama, I don't wanna go to school."

She rubbed soothing circles onto his back with her free hand. "I know, baby. I know it's scary."

He sniffled again, trying to hold back his tears. "I don't wanna lose you!"

Though he couldn't see, Masaki raised her eyebrows. So that was what the boy had been dreaming about that got him so upset. She shook her head slightly. "You don't have to worry about that, Ichigo. You won't lose me."

The tears stopped, and he hiccuped. "Promise?"

Masaki smiled down at her son. "I promise, baby. I'm here."

She rocked him in her arms until he fell back asleep.


	3. Funeral

**Prompt: "Funeral"**

**Rating: K+**

**Characters: Ichigo**

**Warnings: Major character death**

They had all fought their hardest during the War, and eventually they had come out with a victory. The town and the world was safe, but the victory wasn't without it's price. The three Shinigami traitors were dead, as well as all of the Espada, but they hadn't been the only side to suffer losses. No, the War had been hard on everyone, and the Shinigami were facing their own debt today.

It was a cold day, as winter reared it's head, demanding to be noticed, and rain drizzled down lightly. The casket was open, as there was no reason for it not to be. The soul had been mangled beyond recognition, but the body itself was perfectly maintained, without even a scratch. The humans in the town were told that the boy had had a heart attack, too burdened by the stress of his academics and the loss of his beloved mother. It was the simplest way to explain the loss of the young man to them.

The Shinigami knew the truth, but that didn't it make it any easier for them to deal with. Ichigo had died for them, had died protecting all of them. They would all be eternally grateful for that. Looking down at his cold, motionless body in that casket, they all had mixed feelings. They were grateful to him, but sad that he was gone. They all knew, of course, that he would be reborn into Soul Society, but none of them knew where. They might not be able to recognize him when he was, and he might not have any of his memories from his human life here. No, he was dead, as dead as the body lying in front of them.

Some of them mourned more strongly than others. Isshin sobbed openly, as did his daughters, who didn't understand what had truly happened. Karen was aware enough to know that it hadn't been some human disease that had killed her brother, but she didn't know what had happened. She would demand answers later, but now wasn't the time. She wouldn't put that pressure on people who she knew were already suffering. Yuzu was completely oblivious to the spirit world, and truly believed the lie about the heart attack.

Urahara was solemn, his striped hat absent from his head for once. He knew that it wouldn't be appropriate here. Renji and Ishida both looked off into the distance, wearing an annoyed look on their faces. Though both of them cared deeply about the dead boy, neither of them wanted to admit to it, especially here. Rukia looked silently down at her friend's body, tears running down her cheeks. She already missed him terribly.

There were other various humans and Shinigami present, who didn't react as strongly. Orihime wasn't there to express her sorrow – she had been killed early on. Some said that it was her death that caused Ichigo to lose the fight just as much as Aizen's superior strength. But no one wanted to think too much on that now. A man was speaking, reading from a prayer book, as the now closed coffin was lowered deep into the ground. It was over, and there was nothing else that any of them could do here. One by one, they walked away.


	4. Puppy Love

**Prompt: "Puppy Love"**

**Rating: T**

**Characters: Karin/Hitsuguya**

**Warnings: None**

Karin had never been close to any of her peers. They all seemed so stupid and immature, and they only brought her annoyance. While they were talking about sleepovers and gossip, she was worrying about the spirits around the town and the constant fights that her brother was in. He was in plenty of physical fights, with the local bullies, but she also knew some things about his spiritual life. She didn't know all the details of what was going on, but she was aware enough to be able to see the black clad form that came out of his body, carrying a huge sword. She followed him sometimes and watched him fight. He was unaware of her, of course.

Then, when the War happened, Shinigami started hanging around her house. Most of them ignored her, assuming she couldn't see them. It annoyed her, but she wasn't really all that interested in them anyway. But one of them caught her attention. He was young, appearing to be about her age, and he was serious in manner, so much unlike all of her classmates. Karin was fascinated by his snowy white hair, and how he didn't allow himself to be treated like a child. And he wasn't oblivious to her interest in him. It wasn't long before he noticed her staring, and realized that she could see him.

They began to talk. Hitsuguya wouldn't give her all the dirty details, but he did tell her some things about Soul Society and the War. With all of this happening around her, he felt like she deserved at least some explanation. She smiled when she was around him. He made her laugh. She started thinking about him when she was in school, tuning out all the obnoxious chatter of her immature classmates. She only had eyes for the white-haired shinigami that she knew would be waiting at home. She wasn't sure that she loved him, but it was at least something close.


	5. Gloves

**Prompt: "Gloves"**

**Rating: M**

**Characters: Aizen/Gin**

**Warnings: Yaoi, lemon, fairly hardcore S&M/consensual torture**

Aizen slipped his robes off his body slowly, then caught them in one hand before they pooled to the floor. He folded them neatly before sitting them in his laundry basket in the corner of the room. There was no sense in messiness, after all. He opened the top drawer of a table beside him, revealing countless numbers of white gloves laying in neat piles filling the entire drawer. He picked the pair closest to him and slowly pulled them onto his hands. He frowned slightly. He didn't particularly like the feeling of gloves, but he loved the way that blood looked on them. He loved seeing it on other's skin, but it looked so good on white, as well. It was like he was tainting something innocent. He made sure the gloves were on snugly before pushing the drawer shut with a click.

He turned around to face the large bed sitting against the wall and the man that was lying there. He had divested himself of all his clothes already, and his pale skin gleamed invitingly, begging to be ravished. He was thin, and his hipbones showed clearly in the moonlight streaming in from between the slitted blinds covering the window. He smiled widely as always, but it was thin. Aizen rather liked the view. He stalked toward his prey purposefully.

"Gin." He said the word slowly, seductively, and the man in question shivered in response. Aizen smirked. "I see you've been waiting for me." He had known that he would be, of course. Aizen had ordered him to be here earlier in the day, and he knew that his words would be obeyed.

Gin looked up at him, but remained silent. He knew that this was all a part of Aizen's game, and a response wasn't needed from him yet. Aizen would make it clear when he wanted to hear the younger man speak...or scream.

Aizen, now at the edge of the bed, ran one gloved finger lightly across Gin's jaw bone, deliberately gentle. He rubbed along his throat, then back up to his cheek. Gin leaned into the touch, nuzzling against the hand offered to him. Still being as gentle as he possibly could, Aizen brought his hand up to pet his fox's silver hair. He let his fingers run through the silky tresses lightly. Hand embedded in the strands, he leaned down to Gin's ear before whispering smoothly.

"And just what have you been waiting for, hm?"

Gin whimpered at the words. He knew that this was his cue to respond, but as usual, he was already breathless. Aizen tended to have that effect on him. He lay there panting, trying to think of the correct response. He knew what he wanted, of course, but how was he supposed to express it? Aizen grew impatient and pulled his face up just enough so that Gin could see the darkness sparking in his eyes.

"I'm waiting, _Gin_." The man hissed his name out, and Gin nearly bucked up against him.

He forced his voice from his throat. "I...I..."

Aizen raised one eyebrow delicately. "Yes?"

"You. I've been waitin' fer you."

Aizen chuckled, resuming his gentle petting of Gin's hair. "For me? Well, I'm here, so if that's all you want..." He trailed off, knowing the effect his words would have on the boy.

Gin whined again. "No, I want...I want...more." He knew this wasn't enough. He knew he wouldn't get what he wanted until he asked for it very specifically, but this was all a part of the game. Aizen liked playing this way, and if he gave in too quickly, he wouldn't be allowed anything tonight.

Aizen feigned innocent confusion. "More? You want to cuddle, then? Alright, I get it. Here, let me lie down with you." Aizen slid smoothly into bed beside his fox.

Gin grimaced. This was always the difficult part. He had to control himself, or he wouldn't get anything at all. He simply lay there panting for a moment. Even without looking, he knew that his captain was smirking beside him. "Aizen-sama..." he whined. He had been waiting so long, all day, all week for this, and his patience with the teasing was growing thin.

"Yes, Gin?" Aizen's voice was still light and innocent.

Gin clenched his hands in the bedsheets. "I want...I want more than jus' cuddlin'."

Aizen's smirk grew wider. "Oh, you want me to make love to you, then?" He let his hand fall from Gin's hair to caress his naked stomach, instead. His fingers moved lightly across the skin, tracing small patterns across the rippling muscles there.

Gin scrunched his eyes tightly closed. He was ready, but no matter how ready he was, he knew that this part would always be a whirlwind. "No. I want..." his smile grew even wider. "I want you to hurt me."

Aizen's grin instantly turned feral, and his voice turned deep with it. Any facade of the gentle captain was gone, replaced by the true man, the lover Gin had been waiting for so eagerly. "Well, then. I thought you'd never ask."

He reached to the side and his fingers instantly closed around the dagger that he knew Gin would have on the bed waiting for him. He didn't use his zanpakuto for these things anymore. He had tried once, in the beginning, but surprisingly, Kyōka wasn't much of a sadist herself, at least not in the bedroom, and didn't like the game. She had performed, of course, cutting the boy as easily as she would any enemy, but she had whined about it for weeks afterward, and since then her owner had used a normal sword instead. Gin seemed to like that better anyway.

Aizen pressed the tip of the dagger lightly against flesh, squarely in the center of the boy's collarbone. The prone body squirmed beneath him, and the boy's eyes were wide with fear. Aizen knew he wanted this. He always did. But he also knew that no matter how much he wanted it, it was still going to hurt like hell, and the boy had every reason to be scared. He wouldn't have had it any other way.

Slowly, deliberately, he brought the blade down teasingly across skin, not even heavily enough to leave a scratch. The anticipation always made it all the better for him. He was tired of waiting, though. It had been a long week for him as well, and he was eager for his fun.

"Are you ready, Gin?" His voice was serious now, all traces of teasing gone. This would be the last time he would ask.

"Yes, Aizen-sama. I'm ready." He hesitated for only a moment before finishing his thought. "Please."

Aizen obliged. Words were no longer necessary as the action began. He dug the dagger deeply into Gin's flesh, swiping through once, then twice, forming a large X on the boy's abdomen. Blood flowed out heavily, quickly, soaking the skin and the white sheets beneath them. Aizen admired the wounds for a moment. This was only the beginning. This wouldn't kill him, even without treatment. He smiled.

Gin's smile was gone, replaced by an open mouth gasping desperately for breath past the pain. He wasn't screaming yet, but he knew that there were whimpering noises coming from his throat. He had to keep control of himself. He felt like he was falling, like the world was spinning, like it always did at this point, but he knew that there was so much more to come. He couldn't break. Not yet.

Aizen continued carving into him. While he did enjoy a multitude of different methods of torture, knives were truly his favorite, especially with this boy. He stabbed deeply into his right shoulder, then drug the blade all the way across his collarbone to the other side. The gash was wide and deep, and Aizen could see the white of bone showing through the rush of blood pouring out. Gin whimpered beneath him. He wasn't nearly done.

He lay the knife aside for a moment and pulled his own naked body above that of the boy's. He leaned down to capture his lips roughly, and Gin leaned up obligingly, letting the older man dominate him with lips, tongue, and teeth. Their bodies moved against and each and Aizen reveled in the feeling of the slick blood between them and the way Gin's wounds snagged against his own flesh. Both of their erections brushed against each other, sending spikes of heat through them, but he ignored them for now. There was still more fun to be had.

He released Gin's lips and slid his body down until his face was lined up with the boy's swollen erection. He grinned as Gin looked down at him desperately. Without a word, Aizen opened his mouth and swallowed the boy whole. He moved his mouth down the shaft expertly, tongue swirling around all the right spots as he sucked, well versed in what Gin liked best by now. It wasn't long before the member in his mouth was straining and he felt Gin's thighs shaking, signaling his impending orgasm. He pulled away. Gin groaned brokenly and needfully as Aizen slipped a ring down to the bottom of the engorged shaft. He didn't want his toy to come yet.

He put his mouth back down to his skin teasingly, letting his tongue run along the boy's pelvis and the edges of his thighs. He relished the keening sounds coming from Gin's throat. He snaked his tongue up the erection bobbing before him, taking only the head into his mouth and dipping his tongue lightly into the slit to taste the pre-cum that had ended up there before. Gin moaned and Aizen pulled away completely, denying him all contact. Gin's hands fisted in the sheets again. He wanted so badly to reach down and rip off that infernal ring, but he knew better. He knew that the price would be heavy if he did. Instead, he looked up silently at his lord, pleadingly.

Aizen was unmoved by it. He leaned forward to capture the boy's lips in his own again. He pulled back so that their lips were just barely touching before he spoke. "Are you enjoying yourself, Gin?" He knew that his use of the boy's name turned him on, and he used it as often as he could.

Gin lay trembling, trying to focus on something, anything to keep his mind from swimming. It was so hard to think. He knew that Aizen expected an answer. "Yes, Aizen-sama. I'm enjoyin' ma self."

"Good." He took Gin's right hand in his own and brought his lips down to delicately kiss across the joints of his pointer finger. He took it in his mouth and sucked on it, just like he had sucked on something else only minutes ago. Gin threw his head back, enjoying the feeling, but knowing what came next, and dreading the pain. Aizen let the digit fall out of mouth with a pop, then grinned ferally. With a look down at his fox, he grabbed the finger and bent it backward cruelly, listening to the snap as the bone broke.

Gin screamed. No matter how often this happened, he couldn't keep himself from screaming. It was an instinctive reaction. Humming contentedly, Aizen then took the boy's middle finger into his mouth and repeated the action from before. Then, again, he broke it. He looked from the mangled fingers down to the anguished face of the boy below him, now covered in tears. He leaned down until his lips were pressed right against his ear. His voice was mocking.

"Don't cry now, Gin." He chuckled darkly. "There's only eight more to go." He paused meaningfully to consider it. "Unless, of course, I decide I want to go farther." He saw the boy shudder and kept up with his speech. "Do you remember the time I broke each of your ribs, one by one? Your screams were beautiful that night."

Gin whimpered, his body all raw nerve endings, and his erection straining for attention. His voice was rough. "Aizen-sama...please."

Aizen turned his attention back to Gin's fingers, giving the same loving attention to each of the digits in turn until they were all broken, swollen and purple in color. He really liked that look on the boy. Aizen let his fingers move lightly over his own throbbing member. He was enjoying himself, but he didn't know how much longer he could last, and he wouldn't waste this opportunity to be inside the boy. He ran his hand across Gin's abdomen and covered his fingers in the still flowing blood there before coating his own cock in it. It was a bit inelegant, but it was the most he was willing to do right now. Gin groaned watching him do it.

He didn't bother to prepare the prone body lying beneath him. He never did, and they both preferred it that way. Instead, he lined up with the boy's entrance and pushed into him quickly, unforgivingly. Gin cried out at the pain of the intrusion, but he welcomed it, pushing back against the man above him. Aizen found his prostate immediately, hitting it each time with practiced precision. He knew exactly how to work the boy. He thrust in and out of him quickly, eager to reach his own climax. Gin was crying out with every thrust and Aizen knew that he was on the edge. The boy was sobbing openly and words were rushing out of his mouth almost incoherently.

"Please, Aizen-sama. Please, I...I can't. Please."

"Mm." Aizen grunted. He enjoyed hearing the boy beg, but he wasn't ready to release him from this torture yet. He loved the feeling of the body writhing beneath him as the pleasure shot through him but he was denied his orgasm. Gin's muscles clenched around him and it made his own experience that much better. He was close, so close, and he thrust harder, erratically. Gin was still begging.

"Please, Aizen-sama. Please, please, oh gods, please."

Aizen was on the edge and Gin's begging was only pushing him farther. He reached forward and wrapped his long fingers around the pale boy's throat, squeezing tightly, cutting off his air supply. Gin struggled against the hand, but didn't really try to fight it. He needed air, his body screamed for it, but he needed to come and he didn't know which was more important. Aizen thrust into him deeply and closed his hand even tighter around his throat. He knew that he was letting out his own moans now. He was so close he could almost taste it. Just as Gin was about to lose consciousness, Aizen released his hold on his throat. At the same time, he pulled the ring off of Gin's weeping erection, freeing it from it's torture. Gin screamed as the waiting orgasm rocked through him, and Aizen came with him, both of them soaring through their climax together.

Aizen pulled gently out of the boy, then lay down beside him. He would work on healing his wounds sometime soon, but right now, he just needed a moment to catch his breath, and he knew that Gin would need the same. After a minute he looked up to see the fox staring at him mischievously.

"Ne, Aizen-sama."

"Hm?"

Gin grinned at him, then looked pointedly down at the blood covering everything – the bed, their bodies, and the gloves that Aizen had adorned early in the night. "I think you need to change your gloves."

Aizen laughed lightly and pulled his fox into a hug, cuddling him as they fell asleep together.


	6. Muse

Prompt: "Muse"

Rating: T

Characters: Aizen/Gin

Warnings: Mentions of yaoi (non-explicit)

Aizen Sousuke sat in one of the lesser known rooms of Los Noches. In fact, only he and one other even knew that the room existed. It was buried deep within the Lord's chambers where no one ever disturbed him. No sound entered here, and he stared at the blank canvas placidly, contemplating his lack of inspiration as of late. Though none of his subordinates knew about the hobby, he painted as often as he could find the time. He found it to be relaxing as well as cathartic. But lately, this room had lain empty and the paints had remained untouched. He just hadn't had any pictures in his head worth creating.

He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, letting his mind drift to more peaceful places – to his haven, his lover, his eternal muse, his silk-skinned silver fox. A small smile tugged at his lips. He thought of the image that the boy presented to everyone else – cold and detached, a heartless smile always stretched across his face, meant to breed fear and suspicion. It was effective; no one ever tried to get close to him. Aizen, of course, was the exception. He knew the real Gin, inside and out. He knew the softness of the skin just behind his ears, the taste of the hollow of his hips, and the way his pillow smelled. Only he knew how the boy looked with tears on his cheeks and the way his normally slitted eyes opened wide as he climaxed. Only he knew the shape of each curve of his spine.

That was where he always found the beauty to paint. The words would never pass his lips, but they came alive so clearly on the canvas. "I love you, Ichimaru Gin." The paintbrush moved on it's own in his hand, drawing out lines and angles and curves, painting the man who he thought of in colors that didn't exist. The canvas was not a canvas anymore; it was a starry night, an unspoken vow, a backdrop to the beauty that was his fox. Hours passed as the brush danced. He dropped his hand. It was done.

He lay the finished painting against the wall. There was nothing left to do here. Gin was waiting.


	7. Magic

Prompt: "Magic"

Rating: K

Characters: Ichigo/Byakuya (not yaoi)

Warnings: None

The noble stood regally before the sou-taicho, waiting to be acknowledged. He would never be so rude as to speak before he was told to and Yamamoto knew it, so he was in no rush. The old man finished ruffling through the papers on his desk and looked up at the waiting man expectantly. Byakuya took his cue to speak.

"I'm here to make my report regarding my recent mission in the human world."

The old man nodded at him to continue.

"Our information was correct. I combated a handful of low level hollows which I eliminated, but none of significant strength were present."

"Good. Is there anything else you need to report?" He had already turned back to his paperwork.

The noble hesitated in an uncharacteristic display of nervousness. The sou-taicho looked back up at him. "Well, as expected, I encountered the substitute shinigami Kurosaki Ichigo. He possessed some sort of magical communication device. He called it a 'cell phone'."

"Hm. What did he say about it?"

Byakuya began to recount the incident.

_He walked out of the Senkaimon and let it's gates disappear behind him. He looked around the town briefly before beginning to walk forward. He had been told to report to the exile Urahara Kisuke's shop immediately upon arrival for updated information. He had estimated the location well, and the shop was only a couple of minutes from here. He took his time, letting himself breathe in the fresh air of the human world and take in the sights around him. He didn't come here often, and he liked to take his time to observe things when he did. He arrived at the shop shortly, and rapped on the door. The blond man slid it open nearly immediately and pulled his hat down to hide his face._

_ "Well, well. What do we have here?" He grinned lecherously. _

_ Byakuya was unmoved by his joking tone. "I assume that you were expecting me."_

_ Urahara looked up. "I was. Please, come in." He moved aside to let the noble step through the doorway. He gestured to the table in the center of the room. "Please, have a seat." _

_ Byakuya nodded to him and did as he was asked._

_ "Would you like anything? Some tea, perhaps?"_

_ "Tea would be wonderful, thank you." _

_ Urahara left the room to prepare the tea and Byakuya looked around. The room was the same as he remembered it. The owner never had much in the way of taste, and it seemed that he hadn't bothered to try to improve the décor since the last time the noble had visited. He was back quickly with the tea, and Byakuya sipped at it contently. It was surprisingly good. Urahara sat across from him._

_ "How have you been, Kuchiki-san?" _

_ "I've been well, thank you. Now", he said, ready to get his business done and leave. "What do you have to tell me regarding the mission?"_

_ Urahara let his joking tone fall aside. "I'm sure you've been provided with your own instructions. I've prepared a gigai for you to use while you're in this world. You're welcome to use one of the spare bedrooms here if you'd like."_

_ Byakuya considered it for a moment. He rather disliked the shopkeeper, but he would prefer staying here than on a roof somewhere. Rather in a gigai or his spirit form, the weather affected him, and he didn't want to expose himself to it more than was necessary. "I would like that, thank you." _

_ "Would you like the gigai now?"_

_ "No thank you, that won't be necessary. I intend to complete my mission as quickly as possible then get back to my squad. I'll be going out to start now."_

_ Urahara nodded at him. "Alright. If it's late when you come in and no one is awake, feel free to let yourself in. Your room is the first one on the right down that hallway." _

_ "I see. Thank you for the tea. I'll see you when I return tonight."_

_ "You're welcome, Kuchiki-san." _

_ The noble stood and walked back over to the door, sliding it open before slipping outside. He stood still for a moment and let his senses expand, searching for any hollows that might happen to be in the area, though he knew that if there were any of even notable strength he would have noticed them instinctively by now. As expected, nothing came immediately to his attention. He knew that it wouldn't be long before a hollow appeared, so he decided to walk through the town's streets while he was waiting. He let himself wander aimlessly. As he was walking down one of the main streets, he came across the substitute shinigami. He stopped to greet him. _

_ "Kurosaki Ichigo."_

_ "Hey, Byakuya." The noble suppressed a twitch at the informal use of his given name by the boy. He had tried to correct him repeatedly, but it never seemed to be effective, and frankly, he was getting tired of repeating himself to no avail. _

_ The boy's redheaded friend was also walking with him. "Hello, Kuchiki-san!" she chirped. _

_ "Good evening, Orihime."_

_ She grinned at him. _

_ "What are you doing here?" Ichigo asked him. _

_ Rude as ever, Byakuya thought. "I'm on a mission."_

_ "Huh? For what?"_

_ "That's not any of your business, Kurosaki."_

_ Ichigo rolled his eyes. "Aww, c'mon, there's no need to be so stuffy. Lighten up."_

_ Byakuya took a deep breath and was considering a reply when he was interrupted by an odd sound that was a lot like what he had been told the real world considered music. Ichigo reacted to the noise by pulling a small device out of his pocket and pushing a button on it, then putting it up to his ear and speaking into it. _

_ "Hello?"_

_ Byakuya raised his eyebrows quizzically. He didn't understand what was going on, but he got the impression that the boy wasn't speaking to him. There was silence for a moment._

_ "Yeah, that's fine. Sorry, I'll be there in a minute. I actually ran into Byakuya on the way to your house, so Inoue and I are running a bit late. Yeah, alright." He took the phone away from his ear and pressed another button before turning to his red-headed friend. "That was Chad. He was wondering what was keeping us."_

_ "Oh! We should be going, then."_

_ "Yeah." He turned back to the waiting noble. "Well, good luck on your mission, Byakuya. If you need any help, let me know." He turned and began to walk away, but Byakuya called him back._

_ "Kurosaki."_

_ He spun around to face the captain. "Yeah?"_

_ "May I ask you a question?"_

_ "Yeah, of course. What's up?"_

_ Byakuya ignored that odd statement, assuming it was simply some sort of idiom that the humans were so fond of. _

_ "That device you had, the one that made noise. What was it?"_

_ Ichigo looked at him speechless for a moment before responding. "Uh. You mean my cell phone?"_

_ "Cell phone?" Byakuya parroted dumbly. _

_ "Have you never seen one?" Orihime asked him. _

_ Ichigo scratched his head. "Yeah, I guess they don't have them in the Seiritei, do they?"_

_ Byakuya cleared his throat in order to get their attention. "What does it do?"_

_ "Er." Ichigo tried to explain it to him. "Do you guys have phones at all?"_

_ "I do not know what you mean."_

_ "Guess not. Okay. It's..." He struggled with the words. "It's kind of like a Hell Butterfly." _

_ "A Hell Butterfly? But that didn't seem like an animal." The noble tried to understand. _

_ "No, it's not. It's kind of like a little computer, but it...uh...sends messages."_

_ "I see. Am I correct that you were having a conversation with your friend Chad through it?"_

_ "Yeah. He called me."_

_ "Called you?"_

_ Ichigo sighed in frustration. "Yes. You push a button on the phone to call the person you want to talk to, and it connects to their phone. From there, it sends really fast messages back and forth between you."_

_ "I see."_

_ Ichigo could tell that the man was lying, and that he was still as confused as ever. "I'll tell you what would help. I'll call Rukia, and have her explain it to you."_

_ Byakuya was surprised. "Rukia? She has one of these 'cell phones'?"_

_ "Yeah. She got one after staying here for about a month. She's here now, you know. I'm surprised you two haven't met up." He said while pulling out his phone and dialing the number. _

_ "I've only just arrived in town", Byakuya told him. "I had planned to meet with her later, if it became necessary."_

_ Ichigo had the phone up to his ear again. "Hey, Rukia. Listen, I'm standing here talking to your brother, and I need your help. No, no, we aren't fighting. Chad called while I was standing here, and now...well, Byakuya needs some help understanding what a cell phone is. 'Kay, here he is."_

_ Ichigo handed the phone to the waiting noble. He looked down at it oddly._

_ "Put it up to your ear like you just saw me do." Byakuya complied and put the phone up to his ear. Ichigo continued to instruct him. "Now, tell her 'hello' so that she knows you're there."_

_ "Hello?" Byakuya said quizzically._

_ "Good afternoon, Nii-sama." He was shocked to hear his adopted sister's voice come from the device. He pulled it away from his ear momentarily to look at it, before sitting it back down. "Are you there?"_

_ "Yes, I'm here", he told her. "Were you going to explain to me how this odd thing works?"_

_ "Yes. It's magical! It's like a little Hell Butterfly, but it relays messages back and forth between the two parties instantly. It's very convenient!" _

_ "I see" he told her, really meaning it this time. It made much more sense when she explained it to him._

_ "Alright, bye." Rukia's voice said in his ear. He pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at it again before handing it back to the waiting orange-haired boy in front of him. _

_ "Anyway, I've really gotta be going. Chad is waiting for us."_

_ Byakuya nodded at him. "Of course. Have a nice evening."_

_ Ichigo waved as he began to walk away, leaving Byakuya standing there somewhat dumbfounded. _

_ After he had completed his work for the day, he went back to the shop where Urahara had offered him a place to stay. It was still fairly early, before sunset, so he knocked on the door before entering. The shopkeeper and his small family were sitting at the table eating dinner._

_ "Ah, Kuchiki-san. I was wondering if you would be back for dinner. Are you hungry?"_

_ "Yes, please." _

_ He sat down with them to eat his meal. They chattered among themselves aimlessly before he worked up the courage to ask the question that had been plaguing him all evening. _

_ "Urahara-san?" _

_ "Yes?"_

_ "Do you have a cell phone?" _


	8. Clean

Prompt: "Clean"

Rating: K+

Characters: Gin/Kira

Warnings: Very vague mentions of yaoi

Kira shoved the brush back into the bucket of soapy water before continuing to scrub furiously at the floor from his hands and knees. He was a Captain now, and it would be simple to get any one of the other division members to do this work for him like all of the other Captain's did, but he couldn't imagine asking them to. Back when he was still Gin's lieutenant, the man had always insisted that Kira be the one to do this work. He had told Kira that he didn't trust anyone else enough to have access to his personal chambers, and Kira had come to feel honored that his Captain trusted him enough for the job. Even though Gin was long gone and this room belonged to Kira now, he still wouldn't let anyone else clean it. He just couldn't let anyone else desecrate the place like that. So, he cleaned. He scrubbed the floorboards hard, working the soaped-up bristles into the cracks and beneath the edges of all the furniture. Gin had never let him get away with being lazy or doing the job half-assed, so he had learned quickly how to get the room spotless.

If only he could get his soul as clean. Some nights when he took his shower, he would scrub at his skin until it was raw, fighting to cleanse the demons, to get the memory of the traitor out of his head. No matter how much he scrubbed, until the skin was pink and sore, or raw as his nerves, that grinning face was still there staring back from inside his mind. He would never forget the way Gin's smile grew wider, thinner when he was the most dangerous, how he could threaten someone (an enemy, a too-close lover) without ever saying a word. Aizen had been the manipulator, but Gin? Gin never had to manipulate anyone; just from one look, they knew to stay away. Everyone except Kira. He would never forget the way Gin's eyes would snap open, that brilliant red shining, and when it had happened, Kira happened to be too close; he was instantly trapped, a fly caught in a spider's web, never happier to be captured.

He could still remember the way the older man's skin felt, how his fingers moved so lightly over his lieutenants flesh, and the tiny red marks the crescents of his nails would leave. He could remember how it felt for the other man to be inside him. No matter how hard he tried, Kira could never release himself from the memories. The spider was gone, but the web was as strong as ever. He could still feel the man's breath tickling the shell of his ear.

He kept scrubbing. Even if his memories wouldn't come clean, he could make sure the room would. He always threw himself into his work in order to block out the familiar scent in this office, the one always finding it's way so carefully into his nostrils, the sandalwood jasmine scent that was uniquely Ichimaru Gin. Most times, this technique worked. Most times, the ghost would flee the room without much more than a whisper. But tonight, when the stars were too dull and Kira couldn't sleep, the door to the past was open wide – and on the other side stood his captain, smile wide and arms open.

Kira let the tears fall. Tonight would be sleepless, but not dreamless. He couldn't forget; he couldn't ever let himself be free.

He could never let himself be clean.


	9. Secrets

Prompt: "Secret"

Characters: Ichigo/Shirosaki

Rating: M  
>Warnings: Could be seen as yaoi, if you choose to take it that way; consensual violence; self-mutilation; trigger warning for self-injury; profanity; non-sexual sadomasochism; general darkness and NSFW-ness<p>

Everyone had their secrets. For some, it was small, relatively innocent things – a student cheating on an exam in the Academy, a lower-ranked division member sneaking out after curfew to visit a bar deep in Rukongai, or a certain shinigami having a forbidden crush on his noble captain. Sometimes, the secrets were a bit heavier, a bit more likely to get the ones involved into serious trouble – a twelfth division member engaging in secret research, a captain blindly signing off on unread paperwork, or a respected captain planning a grand betrayal. But sometimes, the secret was so dark, so deep down, that no one would have expected it, not even the ones closest to to him.

It had started before the War, before he had ever met Rukia and been unexpectedly turned into a shinigami. In fact, it had started only a few years after the death of his mother. The first time was unplanned, something that happened almost by accident, but caught his attention far more forcefully than he would have thought.

He was seven years old, and his bedtime had passed four hours ago. He technically was in bed, alone in his room, while the rest of the house was fast asleep. But Ichigo was wide awake. He sat on the edge of his bed and stared out his window, just like he had done most nights since his mother had died three years ago. He didn't know how to describe what he was feeling, because it was almost like it wasn't there at all. He was empty. He didn't like it. He didn't know what to do. He hated helplessness. He felt himself begin to panic. He was dizzy, and his heartbeat began to rush, throbbing deep in his chest. He shut his eyes tightly, ignoring the shaking in his hands.

And then, it had happened, without him even realizing it. There was a sharp sting in the middle of his thigh, and he threw his eyes open quickly in surprise. Looking down at the area, he immediately noticed the blood seeping from the fresh cut there. His eyes grew wide in confusion. He blinked several times as he looked down at his hand, noticing the blood drying there beneath his fingernails. Had he done that? He didn't remember. He shut his eyes again. It felt good. The pain was calming, and he felt his breathing begin to even out, along with his heart beat. There was something about the injury that made the whole situation better. He didn't feel so panicked anymore. The weight of the guilt of his mother's death was only a speck in the back of his mind, no longer a weight on his conscious. It was relief.

He never told anyone about his secret, because they didn't need to know. He made sure to keep the cuts well hidden under his clothes. His father, a doctor, would surely have known what was going on, and he couldn't let that happen. Years later, during the War, if he trained harder than necessary, if he let a few strikes hit him, no one had to know. A few of his opponents had offhandedly commented that it seemed too easy, but he only let it bounce off him with a shouted insult. This was his own little secret. But now, with the War over, he didn't have constant battles to fight in, didn't have that rush, that excuse to get a little too close to someone else's blade. And really, this game had become about more than just relief. It had become a pleasure, something almost akin to addiction.

He never told anyone, but you couldn't keep a secret from yourself, from the one living inside your own mind. It had begun in a moment of weakness. After all the battles, all the near death experiences, taking a razor blade to his own skin just wasn't enough for Ichigo. It felt too dull. It had been too long, and he craved it, needing it like he needed air. He tried to ignore the urge. After all, it wasn't like he could just go out and start a fight like he used to. Even the thugs around town weren't strong enough anymore. He growled in frustration as he threw himself down on the bed. He knew it wasn't worth the frustration, and decided to just go to bed. He had school in the morning, and it wouldn't make sense to stay up all night thinking about it. He took off his shirt, preferring to sleep without it, and pulled his covers up over himself hoping to go to sleep quickly.

When he opened his eyes, it wasn't his bedroom he saw, nor a dream-scape as he might have expected. Instead, he saw...buildings? He belatedly realized that he was in his inner world, and moved tiredly to his feet. He hadn't meant to come here. He began to call out for his zanpakuto, searching out the reason he had been called here. "Zangetsu!" There was no response, and he called again. Before he had a change to get an answer, he heard cackling behind him. He spun around to the source of the noise to find Shirosaki standing a few feet away from him. He growled, low in his throat.

"What do you want, hollow?" Shirosaki only laughed again. "Where's Zangetsu?"

Shirosaki rolled his eyes. "Always the same questions. Don't you ever want to ask something new?"

Ichigo rushed at him, materializing his sword in his hand. "I am not in the mood for your bullshit!"

Shirosaki easily sidestepped the poorly planned attack and grabbed Ichigo by his wrist as he stumbled past the space where he had stood moments before. He grinned ferally at the man. "Oh, but I think I'm exactly what you're in the mood for, _King_." He said the title the way he always did, but this time it contained more venom, more mocking.

Ichigo jerked his wrist away from the creature. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Shirosaki smirked at him. "Oh poor, naïve, little Ichigo", he taunted. "Don't you know that I live in here?" He tapped his head with his index finger to prove his point. "That I hear _all_ your thoughts?" Ichigo's eyes widened as his hollow began to move toward him predatorily. "That I know what you were thinking about _just tonight_?"

Ichigo continued to back away slowly, forcing himself to stutter out a response. "I...I don't know what you're talking about."

He responded too slowly as Shirosaki lost his patience. The hollow lunged for him, hitting him painfully and forcing his back against the closest building. Ichigo felt himself hit hard, and knew that a few pieces of debris would be crumbling behind him.

"You don't, hmm? Then I guess I'll just have to show you." He pressed his fingers against Ichigo's throat, pressing him farther back against the wall and denying him the air he needed. Ichigo, still in shock, reacted instinctively and mustered all his strength to try to push his hollow away.

"No!" Shirosaki screeched at him, maniacal eyes growing wider. "Don't you dare try to fight this. Don't you dare try to tell me you don't want it, _King._" Ichigo let his arms fall to his sides, but didn't respond further. Shirosaki growled, then punched him hard across the jaw. "Answer me!" he screamed to the boy who he had pinned. He released his hold on his throat slightly, so that he could speak.

Ichigo tried to push at him again. "I...I don't..." He tried to deny it.

Shirosaki let go of him long enough to grab the arm that had just been reaching to push him away. He grasped the wrist tightly before twisting it hard. He let go only after he heard the satisfying snap of the bones breaking. A whimper escaped Ichigo's throat and he felt his knees weaken, but he remained standing. He had endured far worse than this during the War.

Shirosaki traced one pale finger lightly across the injured arm. "Let's try this again. Are you going to try to honestly tell me that you don't want it?"

Ichigo took a deep breath in an attempt to strengthen his resolve. "I don't."

Shirosaki grabbed him by his shoulders and shoved him back into the building. His head hit again a window achingly. "Alright, King, if that's really the way you want to play it. If that's really what you want, this can stop right here. I can leave, and you can go right back to your bed, all alone, _without what you need_." He hissed those final words.

Ichigo stared at him wide-eyed, unsure of how to respond. He wouldn't, couldn't give in to this creature, but the thought of going without this was nearly unthinkable. He didn't know what to do.

"Che. You're pathetic." His hollow let go of him and began to stalk off.

"Wait!" Ichigo immediately called after him.

Shirosaki smirked to himself before turning back around. "Yes?"

"I..."

Shirosaki waited silently.

"I..." Ichigo screwed his eyes tightly shut. "I want it."

Shirosaki began stalking back toward him. "Oh? Want what?"

Ichigo fought within himself, rebelling against giving in his hollow. He needed it. "I want you to hurt me."

Shirosaki was only inches away from him now, and leaned in to the boy's ear, speaking as quietly as he could manage. "Say the magic word."

Ichigo whimpered and felt the last of his defenses slide away from him. "Please."

That was exactly what Shirosaki had been waiting to hear. Without a moment's hesitation he grabbed Ichigo's hands and jerked them roughly above his head, ignoring the pain that he must have been causing to the broken wrist. He took the sword that Ichigo had abandoned at his feet, then mercilessly thrust it through the teens hands and into the building behind him. This time, Ichigo screamed. Shirosaki ignored it.

"Wouldn't want those hands getting in the way, now would we?" He stared at the now trapped teen wonderingly. "Hmm. What should I do with you?"

He pulled back and slammed his fist into Ichigo's stomach hard, immediately forcing blood up out of the boy's mouth. Ichigo instinctively tried to double over in pain, but only served to pull painfully at his hands, still pinned to the building by his own zanpakuto. He panted from the pain, but didn't say anything.

Shirosaki considered. "I think I like that look on your face." He held out his hand and let his own sword materialize in it, enjoying the fear on the boy's face as he eyed it warily. He forced the sword slowly into the teen's stomach, at the left edge, and drug it all the way to the other side. Ichigo gasped for air as blood began to flow out steadily.

"And you know what the best thing is?" Shirosaki asked him. "You can't die here. That means I can do as much as I like to you, with no consequences. If I wanted to, I could retrace every one of your scars." He paused for a moment to let his words sink in. "Even this one." He put the tip of his sword against the top of the long scar against Ichigo's chest. He pushed inward and then drug the sword down the line. Blood splashed down to the boy's feet, adding to the pile already gathered there.

Ichigo jerked in his bonds again, fruitlessly. The only way to escape from this would be to force his hands all the way past the sword, hilt and all. He wasn't willing to go that far. Shirosaki ignored his attempts and continued with his fun.

"You know, Ichigo, I could gouge out your eyes if I wanted." The teen knew his hollow was only goading him, and didn't bother to protest. Shirosaki sighed mockingly. "Maybe next time, then." He frowned. "Speaking of, we wasted a lot of time with your ridiculous pride, you know. It's almost morning time."

Ichigo opened his eyes and spoke raspingly. "Shit. I have to go to school."

"Yeah, yeah", the hollow answered. "But I would hate to have you go without leaving you with something." He grinned widely. He took his sword and slashed it deeply across Ichigo's throat, enjoying the way the teen's eyes grew wide as the blood poured out from the wound. He gave his parting remarks. "Have fun at school. I'll see you next time, _King_." The last thing Ichigo heard was the sound of his hollow cackling.

Ichigo woke up gasping for breath. He realized quickly that he was in his own bed and that he could, in fact, breathe. The wound in his neck was gone. The sun was just rising outside his window. He thought over his night, and he had to grudgingly admit to himself that he really did feel better. He looked down at his hands, wondering if he would find wounds there. There were none. His skin was perfectly unbroken, just the way it had been when he had gone to sleep the previous night. He smiled to himself. There was no evidence. He could still keep his secret.


End file.
